You Are Seen

My desk is positioned right in front of the window in my home office. Not only does light literally shine upon my work, but I can see and hear what is happening outside. I love to see my cows and sheep come in for water or to bed down in the evening. I love to watch our dog scamper after my kids, joining them on their adventures. I love to hear the rustle and rattle of the cottonwood leaves from the marvelous and ancient tree just twenty yards away.

There is only one thing I do not love.

Springtime marks the return of the barn swallows to our farm. You might assume that with the word “barn” in their name, these birds confine their fanatical nest building to our only our barns.

You would be mistaken. These birds are the bane of my farmer existence. They build their nests of grass and mud above all the window and door frames on my house. And their favorite location is—you guessed it—right above my office window.

“Oh, but Annie,” I can hear you protesting. “How wonderful to have wildlife right there by your side!” I disagree. These birds are relentless in their nest building. I have knocked off countless nests, and they return, with their beaks mud-laden, to begin again. Their nests stain the trim and siding of our house, and not even a thorough power washing can get it off. And they poop. Everywhere. It is stuck to my windows, friends.

Before you think me heartless and uncaring, these birds are welcome to build their nests in any of our farm’s barns or storage buildings. I welcome them there. “Build away, my feathered friends!” I say. But not right outside the window of my office, where I spend a portion of each day writing and working.

Right when I am at my most frustrated with the barn swallows, God sees fit to stop me in my nest scraping and bird shouting with these words from Matthew: “Are not two sparrows sold for a penny? Yet not one of them will fall to the ground outside your Father’s care. And even the very hairs of your head are all numbered. So don’t be afraid; you are worth more than many sparrows” (Matt. 10:29-31 NIV).

God gently reminds me with his world and his Word that I am loved. He tells me these barn swallows that I find so annoying are in his care. That he designed them to build nests from nothing, to lay eggs and raise babies in hostile places. That he cares for them and that he knows what happens to them. If the God of the universe does that for these tenacious birds…

How much more does he care for me?

God sees me knock that bird’s nest off of my window frame. And God sees you take that crushing blow.

God sees those birds working hard to build a nest. And God sees you working hard to build a life.

God sees those birds taking turns, sitting patiently on eggs. And God sees you waiting and waiting for your heart’s desire.

God sees those birds searching for food for their hungry babies. And God sees you searching for a way out, a way in, just one more chance, a glimmer of hope.

Matthew promises us that nothing happens to those birds that God does not see and know. Friends, this is the promise he makes to each of us as well. You may feel like God doesn’t see, doesn’t care, couldn’t love you.

But he does. He is the God who sees.

The prophet Habakkuk was a man who wanted answers. He wanted clear and concise explanations for the evil and violence and unfairness he saw in the world. The first chapter of his namesake book in the Old Testament lists many of his questions: “How long, Lord, must I call for help, but you do not listen? Or cry out to you, ‘Violence!’ but you do not save?” (Hab. 1:2 NIV).

In chapters one and two, he boldly and confidently took his questions to God, and God answered with proof of his loving care and with a vision of what would happen in the future. In chapter three, Habakkuk concludes with prayers and praises of triumph:

“Though the fig tree does not bud and there are no grapes on the vines, though the olive crop fails and the fields produce no food, though there are no sheep in the pen and no cattle in the stalls, yet I will rejoice in the Lord, I will be joyful in God my Savior. The Sovereign Lord is my strength; he makes my feet like the feet of a deer, he enables me to tread on the heights.” (Hab. 3:17-19 NIV)

I don’t know that I will ever appreciate the barn swallows who build nests above my window, but I do know that I appreciate the reminder they bring every spring that God cares for me and that he sees me.

You, too, are seen.

Annie Carlson is rooted like a turnip to the plains of North Dakota where she raises great food, large numbers of farm animals, and three free-range kids with her husband. You can find her with either a book or knitting needles in her hands as she dreams up her next adventure.

Photograph © Jonas Zander, used with permission